Now to Military School?
by MissingJames
Summary: Emmett gets transferred to military school, against his wishes. But he'll be in for more then he thinks. Beginning does not take place in Forks yet.


PREFACE

If one day, you're told, that a big change is occurring in your small-already-semi-content life, what would you do? Would you freak out and resist, or would you accept it and deal with it? But sometimes—you don't have a choice.

* * * *

Chapter 1

Big, Bad News

Big game coming up on Thursday. Two days away from now. Practice tonight and football practice tomorrow. Football is okay, but I like soccer better. MVP for two seasons running in high school, and this will be my third. I've been soccer MVP in all of Junior high as well. I kill at sports. Best athlete in the school, and I'm only a sophomore.

I chuckled, if only my grades could be this good. But who needs grades for being an athlete when you grow up? Will I need to know history for sports? How's that going to help—maybe some guy has horrible ancestors and I can taunt him on the field? Yeah, right. Still chuckling I glanced up.

The clock read 10:45, 30 minutes more minutes until lunch. S_o_ _long_, I groaned.

"Is there something you need Emmett?" Mrs. Hill was looking at me with a polite, questioning smile on her face. But I knew her too well. There was a faint gleam of annoyance in the expression, tone, and back of her eyes.

I couldn't help it, I smirked. "Not, not at all. Not a thing in fact. Please, go on." Yes, do. Go on with whatever crap you were talking about before. I heard her little "humph", and smiled wider.

I slid back into my deep thinking. Game on Thursday. They'll have me all in the first half. I'll play goalie first 15 minutes, than switch to center striker. Half time; say the team encouraging speech for them and sit out and watch—and yell instructions and advice. As well as the occasional comment of offense for the opponent. Coach will put me back in the last—

"What is your answer for question 12? Mr. McCarty?" I faintly heard her ask her question.

—20 minutes of the game as center offensive mid. I'll kill them. We are totally undefeated. Without me, we'd be nothing. Less than nothing. We have a couple of good players other than me. Bobby's a great defender. And Tom can save almost anything. Nick can dribble and has great control. And then there's me—fearless goalie, lightning fast, and with the best accuracy and power-shot. I'm unbeatable. I could feel eyes on me. I looked up to find everyone staring at me.

I met everyone's gaze and smiled at the girls, who blushed and looked away.

"Mr. McCarty?" Mrs. Hill asked.

"Yes Mrs. Hill? You need anything?" I could hear girls giggling and some guys stifling laughs. I grinned.

She saw it. Maybe guessing the reasons behind it.

"Question 12 PLEASE!" She looked hard at me, voice rising a little at the end, irritation and impatience breaking through.

"Why did Mede—" I never got to finish.

"The answer Mr. McCarty!" Agitated much? Huh. I was annoying her. Good.

Oh, and some advice, when she starts using your last name, it's not a good thing… although; she's been using mine for quite a while so…

"But you just said you wanted the question, not the answer!" I protested innocently, though thoroughly amused.

Everyone was laughing openly now. I could see why. She looked distressed. Now, I was hiding a smile. That last comment did it. I watched as her eyes snapped, and her spine stiffened, ramrod straight. I knew what was coming.

She started, "Mr. Mccarty, pack up, collect—"

"—your things and get up out of that chair and go see Mr. Linfield. I know, I know." I pretended to heave a sigh and look unhappy about this.

I might as well save her from wasting her already too-short lung capacity. I already knew it by heart, seeing as this is not the first time it's happened, and wouldn't be the last.

"Yes. That is correct. He wanted to speak with you in his office anyway." She looked smug. I had an unhappy feeling with the way her eyes were twinkling and how a truly genuine smile appeared.

I stared at her.

"Now." She said.

Whatever. Let her keep her secrets. I got up and walked casually to the door, winking at one girl as I passed. I smiled, satisfied as I heard her giggle and turn to her friend, Rosita wasn't it? Both were pretty. Nice faces, but nothing special. I walked by Nick's desk, who was in my English class as well and gave him a knuckle-touch.

"Get a girlfriend, will you?" I whispered to him.

"I'm going to, and she's going to be on the girl's soccer team—and hot." He smiled.

"Hey, stay away from Tatyanna, she's mine."

"Oh, I know. I was thinking more Linda" He gave me a wink.

"Yeah, that's great, you two would be—hey what are you staring at Leo?" I turned to Nick's right and glared at Leo, this dork of a small kid who was looking on in wonder and envy. "You got a problem or something?"

"Me? I… a… n-no… n-not at all…" His voice trailed off.

Some of my classmates laughed at his total embarrassment and discomfort.

"MR. MCCARTY! NO SOCIALIZING! MR. LINFIELD! OFFICE! NOW!"

Smiling, I turned away and walked out the door to the hallway. I took my time, thinking while classrooms filled with students and teachers passed me by. Tatyanna _was_ mine. Well, other guys aren't going to have her. But she won't be the only one. Nick and Linda actually did look good together; height was about right, same hair color—dirty blonde—and eyes. I'm so jazzed about the upcoming game. We're playing Burlington High. Arch enemies. But we are so better then them. We Wildcats have killed them in almost everything.

I waved at Jessica Maroney and watched as the color rose on her cheeks, all the way up to her blond hair. Her pale blue eyes winked at me, and I gave her a winning smile before moving on. I walked by Mr. Chanley's class, paused, and turned back around to look in. Bobby should be in this class. Bobby Nichols, the best defender on our soccer team. Math, right? I saw him, second row, third seat.

Bobby's pencil moved across the paper. He raised his hand in the air and I heard him ask a question that got me interested. "Mr. Chanley? May I please use the bathroom?" The reply was a deep bass of a "yes you may". He got up and walked to the bathroom pass, writing his name and the time. I slid behind the door.

Bobby walked out, carrying his pencil and pass with him. I waited until he was sufficiently away from the door, and jumped him. Quickly covering his mouth, I clamped down on his arms as he struggled. He finally recognized me and I let go.

"You seem shocked." Damn right you do, I thought with a grin.

"Oh, obviously. I've just been ambushed unexpectedly while walking innocently to do my business." I laughed. "Why are you walking around the hallways anyway," he added puzzled.

I laughed again, waiting for him to get it and rolling my eyes.

"Aw, Emmett! Come on! What are you doing? Do you want to drop out or something? You're only playing sports because Coach Rob begged Linfield! Bribed really! You have got to be careful! Seriously. We _need_ you." He stared into my eyes. All serious.

"I know, and I'm flattered, but I really didn't do anything." It was his turn to roll his eyes and give me his _do you think I believe that crap_ look. "I didn't, Mrs. Hill always overreacts!"

But I was smiling, and he noticed. There wasn't much you can get pass his intense blue eyes, always so observant. I shrugged. Clapping him on the back, I shoved him into the bathroom door. "See ya man!" I said, giving him a grin over my shoulder. He gave me a thumbs-up, and turned his back. I went on. Left, right, left, second door on the left. Principal Harry Linfield. But I call him Hairy Linfield. My name of endearment for him, you know? I strolled in, not bothering to knock and sat in the red leather seat across from him. I looked at him—his gray, dull suit, shining bald head, black, round-rimmed glasses over a long drooping nose, and flat hazel eyes. He hasn't changed one bit.

Mr. Linfield shuffled some papers on his desk and looked at me, his gaze disapproving. I could just see how his assessment of me fit in with his scheme of dull and boring. There was me— slightly curled, light brown hair, brown, green specked eyes, full mouth, muscular and meduim to tall build, and the hottest and most wanted guy in my grade—to his short, fat, and pudgy self. It was obvious why he hated me. I was what he couldn't be.

"Ah, Mr. McCarty. Came here for our little talk, did you? Or was there another reason?" His small beady eyes probed mine. He folded his hands and waited.

"Actually, Mrs. Hill sent me here," I said calmly, "but she also said you wanted to see me."

"Getting into trouble again Mr. McCarty? That's not good. Not good at all." There was a smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Tsk, tsk. What _are_ we going to do with you?"

The smile now became obvious. I glanced at the papers he had in his hand, trying to read upside down. This was very hard for me; since I struggle even to read right-side up. He drew them back a little. His eyes lit with happiness. I felt trouble coming on. It's just that feeling when an adult, who you know hates you, smiles at you with all the menace and malice a feral dog would give its' cruel master feeling the master is going to get _exactly_ what he deserves. And who am I here? I'm the master, he's the dog. Bad, bad feeling now. I tensed for the onslaught.

"Mr. McCarty, go home." He said.

I gaped at him. What did he say?

"What?" I asked in astonishment.

"I said you are going home. Okay, fine, not this instant. But in the span of the next two weeks, it will be your last." His smile increased to a size I never thought possible.

I stared at him, uncomprehending. Last two weeks? Here? What kind of trick is this insane crack-pot playing? This is my school for God's sake! I can't just leave! He moved forward, on the edge of his chair that was huge to fit his body, and handed me the papers. I saw the title. I flipped to the last page. My parents' signatures, his signature. They were right there.

"Oh my God." I whispered. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."

"You're being transferred." He said with satisfaction and as if I didn't get it.

"I can't! You have to be joking! Can't I at least wait until the end of the year?"

"Nope, you can't. _So_ unfortunate. I'm sorry, but no." He twisted his features to look full of remorse, but it wouldn't have fooled a baby. "So sorry, but it looks as if you are leaving us." He added sounding not the least bit sorry.

I was still in shock. How can I be transferred? And my parents agreed to this? WHAT?! I was totally enraged, beyond words. I got up, shoved the seat back, making it hit the floor—hard— and swept my arm over everything on his desk. He just sat back in his chair the _whole _time and smiled at me. I glared back, and stalked angrily out of his office, slamming the door behind me. The bell rang for lunch.

I stomped past the students, who were gaping at my furious expression. The hallway quickly filled with classmates making their way happily to lunch. Bobby caught up with me, and Nick too. Jessica came over to walk with us, but I just brushed past them. They followed. Nick and Jess gave Bobby a questioning look.

"It's beyond me." Was all he replied. They all walked with me, eyes intently and anxiously staring into my face. Jess walked off, holding up Linda and dragging her back to walk with us on the way to lunch. She too, peered at me nervously before turning to Nick.

"Hey Linda," he said before she could say anything. "I was wondering…would…you go…er…out with me? He flushed and turned away from her. Linda reached up with her hand and turned his face back to look at him. "Nick. I'd love too." She smiled a beautiful smile at him, and he smiled right back. They held hands the rest of the way, and once I calmed down a bit I tapped Nick on the shoulder.

"Smooth."

"Shut up. I'm really happy; don't ruin it for me, okay? And, what's with you?"

I looked away and walked faster. Bobby and Jess hung back. I didn't notice.

* * * *

"Seriously Bobby, what's up with Emmett?" Jess flicked a blond curl behind her ear. Students passed and they took no notice. He drew up a concentrated face, thinking back. His face cleared, and she prompted him.

"He met me before lunch. As I was going to the bathroom, and I asked him what he was doing. He told me he played around with Mrs. Hill," Bobby made a face, "and then was sent to Hairy's office. And then, like five minutes later, when I was in the hallway, I heard a crash. And it was coming from that direction. I guess it didn't go too well."

"I'll say." Real concern on her face. Bobby, as usual, noticed.

"You like him, don't you?" He watched as she looked down and said nothing. "You really like him. Like a lot."

"Who doesn't? But I'll have no chance. None at all. I'll just be his friend. Tatyanna is going out with him." She said her name so bitterly, Bobby felt sorry for her. He gave her a sympathetic look. "Don't give me that look. What would you know about that? You with a girlfriend and all that."

"Don't say that. Look, I love Michelle—a lot. With all my heart, but I have known unrequited love before."

"Whatever. Let's hurry up."

* * * *

Bobby and Jess entered the cafeteria. Tom saw them and waved them over. The table was full of the girl's soccer team and the boy's. Almost everyone was paired up. Almost everyone. I looked around. We were all in couples. It was so weird though. Some were really committed to each other, but others weren't. I thought about what Tatyanna and I had. No, she wasn't the most committed, and neither was I. I flirted with all the girls, except my friends' girls. I heard the very thing I didn't want to hear and immediately stiffened, my face growing cold and hard.

"Hey, Jessica. What happened with Emmett?" I heard Jimmy Metrio ask in hushed whispers. But I had really good hearing. I glared at him from the other end of the table. He felt my furious gaze and immediately looked down. Everyone was looking at me now. They saw my expression, and knew that when I was mad, it's a problem. I had poor anger management.

"Emmett, baby, come on. What's wrong love?" Tatyanna wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned her head against my shoulder, her dark brown curls pressing softly against my neck. I stayed how I was, angry and glaring, but now into the distance.

"Do you want me to tell them the part I know?" Bobby asked me. I didn't answer, so he went on. Everyone turned to him now. "So, it started before lunch in—"

"—Mrs. Hill's class," Nick interrupted, shooting an understanding look at Bobby, who nodded. "Alright, so Emmett was staring off into space—probably thinking about the game on Thursday," he smiled, "and Mrs. Hill asks him a question. He, as usual, ignores her. But she doesn't give up. So she gets his attention, and also as usual, Emmett makes the remarks that are _so_ going to get him in trouble. She sends him to Mr. Linfield—while the rest of us are laughing at Mrs. Hill." The whole table laughed except me. I was still too angry to speak. I felt Tatyanna's lips brush my chin, and I softened a little. Bobby took it from there.

"So I'm going to the bathroom, right? I walk out the door, and he tackles me. I tried to fight back since I didn't know it was him, but obviously, to no avail." They laughed again, and I gave a little smile. "He told me what happened, and I go to the bathroom. When I come back into the hallway, I heard a crash, a very big crash." He looked at me. Everyone looked at me.

I sighed. I'll have to tell them sooner or later. I hugged Tatyanna closer now, and put my chin on the top of her head. I heard her sigh and felt her squeeze tighter. "Emmett, baby, it's okay. Just tell us." She kissed me again, and I took a deep breath.

"You aren't going to be a hell of a lot happy about this." My face grew angry and my lips hardened into a straight line. I could sense everyone's growing trepidation. I was practically spitting out what happened. "That crap-of-a-principal called me into his office looking all smug and everything, I so wanted to cut it off of his ugly face. Always so mean. That retard. He's an absolute lunatic! Who thought to make him principal? He's a real crack job! Who knows if he's on crack, he probably is!" Everyone just let me get it all out. But they were still tense. They've seen me like this before, and knew the worse has yet to come. "I sat into his stupid leather chair and looked into that pudgy, fat face of his and he tells me…he tells me…. No he _hands me_ a stack of papers." I grew all calm and quiet.

Their faces that were worried then, looked terrified now. Tatyanna let go and placed her hands on my shoulders. Looking at my face. Her face. That did it. Who knows why that did it? But it did. I shot up from the bench, trembling all over; head to toe. I rocked with it. Bobby and Nick and Jessica and Tom and everyone was looking at me. This was the worse I've ever been. But what would they do, if their life was suddenly turned upside down? The whole side of the cafeteria was. I stood there, still trembling, not at all calming down. In fact, it was escalating.

"Emmett, relax. Think about soccer." Jimmy said this to me. Evidently thinking that would calm me, so did the rest. So they were shocked when they heard my next words, very shocked.

"THE HELL WITH SOCCER!" I totally exploded, my face became anguished. I sank slowly to the floor; knees, hands, stomach, face. And I stayed there. Just like that. Unmoving. "Damn you Hairy, damn you. The hell with soccer." I repeated this over and over.

As I lay there, with everyone looking on, they'd been paralyzed. No one knew what to do. They were horrified. Who wouldn't be with their best friend totally killing himself over some unknown?

Tatyanna was the first to move. "Bobby, help me get him up. Nick, go get a teacher. Everyone back up. I have a bad feeling that when I touch him, he'll explode. Maybe lash out." She reached toward me with Bobby. I felt their arms around my waist, but didn't resist. Once I was standing, I grew furious. Or, I should say, tried to. But then, I gave up. I just gave up. I sagged, back to the floor, whimpering.

They tried to get me up again, but I didn't want to.

"Don't touch me!"

"Alright man I'm sorry." Bobby held up his hands as if to defend himself. "Nick's getting help." And boom, just like that, he was there. But who did he bring along, but Mr. Linfield? What was wrong with Nick, what possessed him to bring Hairy? But then I knew, Mr. Linfield probably insisted on going. I glowered at him heatedly as he sauntered over here.

"Mr. McCarty, do we have a problem here?"

"Yes we do."

And that's when I let all my anger out. I sprang at him lithely kicking my feet out at his chest. He fell over backwards, screaming as I kneeled on his fat body, holding him down. I pulled back my fist to give it to him, but my friends restrained me, yelling anxiously at me.

"Emmett, what are you doing? You'll get expelled! Come on Emmett, back away. Don't do this."

But I didn't. Expelled! I was unwillingly being transferred! As if expelled is worse! I didn't lay off him, I ran at him again. It took half my soccer team to hold me back. And then, I blacked out.

As I rest still on the ground, some unwilling students helped Linfield back up. Jessica timidly, though inside hatefully (because wondering about what he did to make her beloved Emmett this agonized and hurt), walked over to him.

"Mr. Linfield? What exactly happened in your office?"

"I gave Emmett his most exciting news of the day!" He said fiercely looking over at my still form, very irate with having been knocked over.

"And that was?" Tom asked, fighting to keep his voice steady, as to not show how much he really disliked him.

"Oh, it is just _so_ awesome! He's being transferred!" His expression turned to delight. But every student, looked worse then horrified. Audible gasps all around the room. And their dislike instantly turned to hatred. "But he just attacked me." He said, fuming again. "Bad self-control. Anger management problems. I'm thinking more of a Military/disciplinary school now. Somewhere where he'll learn to control himself. Ha. They'll have a handful with this animal! That's really why I let him think he was going to stay and play sports." By now, he was talking mostly to himself; he hadn't realized he'd said this aloud, because he shouldn't have.


End file.
